Queen of Winter
by WriterWilf
Summary: Originally a poem titled "White Witch" and was published in a collection of Narnia Character Poems. Inspired to republish this after seeing some stanzas quoted on another site. Edited somewhat, but poem remains the same. A poem about Jadis, the Queen of Winter.


**AN: Discovered on Tumblr a gifset which actually used the first stanzas of this poem. It's been down from this site for a while, and was once a part of a larger collection of poetry which I'm now debating to republish. I went and did some editing of course, to fix some mistakes. Still, it's the same poem. I'm glad that my archivist kept it.**

**Disclaimer: Narnia is not mine. Don't sue.**

* * *

><p><strong>Queen of Winter<strong>

Dark and cold are what you are.

A treacherous witch are what you truly are.

Beneath all that beauty

Lies a dark and evil heart.

Queen of the horrid and queen of winter.

At the sound of your command,

Winter comes running obediently,

Like a well-trained dog.

It snaps its teeth at all life,

And casts the beautiful country of Narnia

Into a hundred years of winter.

Though you are no real Daughter of Eve,

There you sit, pretending to be.

Yet you don't truly know what it means,

To be a true Daughter of Eve.

The blood that courses through your veins,

Isn't what blood of real Daughters of Eve are.

Daughters of Eve know how to love deep down inside.

But you however don't

For your blood prevents you from doing so.

Oh false queen of Narnia,

How somber the beautiful land has become.

Under your rein you have brought shadows and torment.

You've forced the inhabitants to choose sides.

Your followers creep in the shadows,

Watching and waiting for any kind of movement

Against anything that threatens your rule.

All the Narnians now live in great fear and sadness

Knowing that their land is under the command

Of a cruel and evil tyrant.

Fear that runs up and down their spines

When they hear the sound of your sleigh's bells.

Horror when they see that icicle crown

That you wear on your head.

When they see your face

Which is paler than paper

Or the snow that falls from the dark clouds

That hang above the land of Narnia.

All those who disobey your commands,

Soon find themselves dead.

As you raise your wand,

And strike them dead by turning them to stone.

You cruel and unmerciful tyrant,

You truly don't know the meaning of love.

For all you hunger for is power.

And all you wish to keep is that power.

Oh white serpent with red eyes

It is hard to believe how much of a deceiver you are.

All those innocence who come upon you,

Who you find may be useful.

You pretend to be warm and gentle.

You call them over gently and you wrap them in your mantle.

You ask them if they like something hot to drink.

Then you take out a flask,

And you pour a drop of that dark and evil magic,

Into the sinister snow.

A steaming and frothy drink takes form.

And when the unfortunate fool drinks it,

He has become yours.

Then you ask if they would like something to eat.

They say yes and say what they would like.

Again your pour another drop from the evil flask,

And again it forms bad magic food from the snow.

When the unfortunate one takes a bite,

Now they are forever ensnared in your control.

For the substance those drops have made,

Have tainted their hearts.

And have poisoned their minds.

They believe anything your deceptive tongue says.

Bound to you they are.

They will do anything,

In order to get one more bite.

And once they complete the task you want them to perform

They fall victim to your stone-turning wand,

Now just one of the many,

Who dot the Narnian landscape,

And fill your evil house.

Finally though you have met your match.

For the True King of Narnia has returned.

It sends fear down your spine.

It causes that cold and evil heart

To cower in fear.

And it is fear that you launch an attack.

Against the True King of Narnia,

And the ones destined to overthrow you

From your dark and evil throne.

All around you you see,

Your spell begin to break.

Winter turns spring,

And spring into summer.

The sound of birds fill the day,

Butterflies flutter around.

You start to realize that your reign is drawing to an end.

At the sound of your voice,

Your minions come running to you.

Gruesome Hags and spooky Specters.

Arrogant Minotaurs and bone crunching Giants.

All those who love your cruel and unloving rule

Come running ready to offer their life for you.

Then you go the camp

And demand for the Son of Adam's life.

For as the Deep Magic from the Dawn Time clearly says

"Every traitor belongs to you,

His blood is your property.

And you have the right to kill that property."

The Golden Lion,

The True King of Narnia,

Talks to you alone.

He offers up his life in the traitor's stead.

When he comes to the Stone Table,

He willingly allows your people,

To cut away his golden mane,

To bind him tightly,

And to put a muzzle on him.

You think you have triumphed,

When you stab the True King of Narnia

With that cruel and cold stone knife.

His golden body heaves one last breath.

Little did you know,

That the Great Lion knew,

Of a magic deeper still.

A magic that existed before time dawned.

A magic that stated

"If a willing victim who has committed no treachery,

Is killed in a traitor's stead,

The Table will crack,

And death itself will be denied."

You rode out into battle all high and mighty.

Turning enemy soldiers right and left into stone.

You wounded the Son of Adam,

After he had broken your wand.

And you faced off against the the other Son of Adam,

Who would become the High King of Narnia.

As the two of you battled, a sudden roar filled the air.

And from the top of the highest rock,

The Golden Lion gives a mighty roar.

He has been restored.

The beauty that is him is even more.

And it is then you realize

That He is the King again.

Desperately you try to rid of the last Son of Adam,

Even though you know you have failed.

You manage to knock the little king to the ground.

And you raise your sword to strike him dead.

But with another rumbling roar,

You see a golden figure pounce upon you

And pins you to the ground.

And you are forced to look upon the golden beauty and terror.

That is the Great Lion.

And in your heart you truly see.

That he is much more than a lion.

He is High King over all High Kings.

No power of any world

Is higher than the Lord.

The mysterious sense of terror and awe,

The feelings course through your veins.

The Lion opens his mouth,

And you are now no more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I do of course hope that you enjoyed this poem. Jadis truly is a fascinating character for me. I also love character analyses as a general rule. I've written several poems about other characters before. If you wish to see them come back on the site as separate pieces, by all means let me know in a review!<strong>

**I hope you guys decide to drop a review regardless. They do make my day. Also, if you wish to read other works of mine be sure to check out my profile page. Just yesterday I published a story which looks at the final hours before Aslan's Sacrifice in the Witch's p.o.v. Don't be shy in trying my other works either. Just heed the warnings on my page. Any and all reviews are appreciated. They make me smile. **

**God bless,**

**-WriterWilf**


End file.
